To Fill the Void
by PandaStarz
Summary: What would happen if Miroku were sucked into his own Wind Tunnel? Trapped in a parallel universe – surrounded by countless demons – Miroku must choose to wander forever, return to the real world as a phantom… or simply disappear. Mir/San
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: Sucked In**

Dark eyes, cold and focused, locked on their target.

"SANGO!" Miroku's shakujou lashed out at the demons around him, whirring and lashing and striking with a mind of its own, as the monk vehemently fought his way over toward Sango.

The slayer's eyes narrowed in concentration as she leaped up, impossibly high, and brought down her weapon on the baboon-cloaked demon. "Hiraikotsu!" Almost immediately, she recoiled from the choking cloud of miasma that escaped the gash in the demon's shoulder. She landed, coughing, just as the monk appeared at her side.

"Sango, are you alright?" he asked her urgently.

"Yes, I'm fine," she said, gripping the handle on her weapon more tightly as another fit of coughing wracked her body with deep shudders. Unconvinced, pulled her behind him, shielding her. Without hesitation, he faced the demon and removed the prayer beads that sealed off his right hand.

"Wind Tunnel!"

The demon's cloak was ripped away, and dark seaweed hair rippled around him, pulled by the suction of wind. Naraku's smirk was malevolent. "Fool," he spat as poisonous insects flew past him and were sucked into the current of wind, "You'll die from the poison before I am defeated."

"Miroku!" Sango gripped the upper part of the monk's upraised arm from behind. "Stop! You'll die!"

"Get back, Sango," Miroku begged, the strain in his voice indicating the effects of the poison. Naraku leaped high into the air, momentarily escaping the flow of wind, and Sango aimed her Hiraikotsu at him. Writhing tentacles surged out to intercept it, curling itself around the weapon and neatly snapping it.

Crimson eyes, hungry with bloodlust, locked on their target.

Naraku's tentacles stretched, aimed at the monk, and Miroku thought it foolish that the demon would try to attack him directly, whether he was weakened or not. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a mass of demons swoop down behind him, launching themselves at the nearly-defenseless Sango.

In a sudden moment of clarity, Miroku closed his fist and whirled around to wrap his arms around Sango. She had her sword out and was half-turned to face the looming demons. Her eyes widened at his embrace, and he urgently murmured a sacred chant in her ear.

At first Sango thought that she was holding her breath, then realized that she couldn't breathe. She was absolutely paralyzed, but not from fear; the monk's sacred spell bound her. Sounds slowly faded away to silence, and even Miroku's touch on her skin faded. She still retained her vision, however, and as Miroku pulled away, his lips moved, forming the words that she would never hear him say.

Reluctantly, he pulled away. The spell that rendered Sango's body immovable was an ancient one that he'd discovered long ago but never attempted. It was a barrier cast on a human being, used by only the highest of monks, that shielded a single person from any attack, while at the same time freezing their entire body so they could neither move nor breathe. Sango would die unless the spell was lifted, and the spell wouldn't be lifted until he perished. Judging from the poison coursing through his body, the demons attacking in his direction, and Naraku's tentacles aimed at his body, the spell wouldn't last long.

The first of the demons launched itself at Sango, and was repelled, slamming into an invisible wall that purified it instantly. Many more demons suffered the same fate, and relief rolled off Miroku in waves. It worked. Sango was safe.

The fingernails on the monk's hand dug deeply into the flesh of his palm, sending droplets of blood rolling down. A greater suction pulled at his hands as the sides of his Kazaana widened. Simultaneously, Naraku's tentacle pierced his back, carving a hole all the way through to his chest. Uncurling his fingers, a veritable vortex spiraled around him. It engulfed the demons in a range that was three times farther than usual. Naraku was pulled in as well, who hadn't anticipated the monk's sacrifice. The hole widened, unstoppable now, and a sudden calm overtook Miroku before he perished.

Ironically, he'd taken his vengeance on Naraku by using the demon's own curse against him, in the end. He'd managed to protect Sango as well, and accomplishing both at the same time was more than he could have asked.

His only regret was that she'd be left alone. The barrier had shielded her from even the Kazaana's amplified suction, but he knew it wouldn't shield her from a broken heart. Her wide-eyed gaze was the last thing he saw before he, too, was pulled in.

Violet eyes that held an apology and a promise locked on their beloved, then were engulfed within the spiraling void.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Detached**

_Am I not dead? _

He felt alive, but upon opening his eyes he suspected that if this was the case, then it would not remain so for much longer.

A huge demon loomed directly over him. The forked tongue that extended from a scaly, coiled and serpentine body was flicked in his direction. He rolled over, trying to get to his feet. Instead, he hit something solid, with a slimy texture.

"AH!" It was another demon, a fairly small one, only the length of his arm, its bulbous mosquito-like eyes staring straight at him. He scrambled to his feet, breathing heavily and assuming a defensive stance. He squinted at the larger demon, waiting for it to attack. As the sudden adrenaline coursed through him, the only thing he could hear was the sound of his heavy breathing.

Because it was the only thing making a sound.

He straightened, and only then took in his surroundings. His eyes widened as they were hit with a fantastic sight.

A sea of demons, thousands upon thousands, were scattered across the landscape for leagues in every direction. They were statues of stilled flesh, unmoving and dormant. Carved and set to rest where they stood. Nothing moved, nothing changed, nothing made a sound besides Miroku. The sky was a distant and untouchable ocean, and the ground was an even and sand-less expanse of desert.

"What is this—?" he began, but stopped, realizing the answer before he even completed his question. A sinking feeling that he couldn't quite explain tugged at his gut. "It can't be…"

He examined the nearest youkai in detail. Then another. And another. Yet he came to the same conclusion every time: he _knew_ those demons. He recognized them. He… had sucked them in. This was the world in which they had disappeared to.

Miroku was trapped inside his own wind tunnel.

* * *

><p>The fates were cruel, indeed.<p>

Much more so than he could have imagined.

If there were one word to describe the way Miroku felt, it would have been 'detached'. He trudged through the stagnant abyss of this alternate reality for what could have been days or years. It could have been minutes, even, but there was no end to it. He felt like a specter, gliding through a still world that he had no real part in for all eternity.

He started to wish that he could become one with the world, yet another statue to add to the twisted museum collection. Yet something stopped him from doing just that – curling up on the ground and pretending not to exist. Perhaps it was because wandering was in his nature. Miroku had spent his life as a wanderer. It seemed he would spend his death in the same way.

Perhaps it was because he didn't think being amongst thousands of grotesque figures were preferable sleeping arrangements.

"If only I had sucked up a mansion at some point…" he thought aloud, wistfully. In truth it wouldn't matter if he did have a place to rest other than the ground because he wasn't getting tired either way. He just wanted to hear the sound of his own voice, or else he had a feeling that he would go insane.

"Is the first sign of insanity not talking to oneself?"

"Ah, I suppose it is."

It was only then that Miroku realized he hadn't been the one to ask that question.

"Hello? Is someone there?" _Is it possible that someone is here in this world besides me?_ The voice paused for so long that Miroku doubted he had ever heard it in the first place, and suspected that he had already started losing his mind. But then, thankfully, it spoke again.

"Do not give in to the void Miroku; it is how you will disappear."

"What does that mean?" Miroku asked the voice desperately, wanting to hear it again.

It was then that something – or someone – materialized in front of him. He was an old man, dressed as a monk just like Miroku, with a gray beard, a bald head and wizened features. The image flickered in front of him, making Miroku wonder whether it was just a figment after all.

It spoke again. "If you lose the will to keep fighting, you will disappear from this world, the void will take you and you will become nothing. Your soul will disappear forever."

"My soul…" Would it really be such a bad thing? To just allow his soul to end?

"But there is hope for you, Miroku… grandson."

"You are the spirit of my grandfather?" The old monk inclined his head, fading out of view for a moment then appearing solid again. "Then… do you know where my father is?"

"No… and yes."

Well, that was helpful.

"Allow me to explain."

"Please do," Miroku bid the specter.

"When your father was defeated by the void, he ended up in a world much like this one – so did I – but he eventually gave in, he couldn't find a reason to keep wandering. In life he had nothing to live for. And so he disappeared."

"Disappeared how?"

"The void consumed his soul, and he was no more."

"Then there is no hope for either of us."

"There is hope for you."

Hope? What hope could be found in this bleak world? Devoid of everything… empty, like the sucking hollowness of the void Miroku had lived with for most of his life. Like the memory of Sango and everything he would have given to be with her. "Hope?" he asked, his voice strained.

"Yes," the old monk nodded sagely. "You are the last descendant of the curse, therefore, the void still resides in you. You may still be able to overcome it, and destroy it."

Miroku shook his head.

"It is too late for me to try to break the curse. I am dead. I have failed."


End file.
